Thrown in the Deep End
by Disasteriffic Kaz
Summary: Tag to 7x13 "The Slice Girls" Sam has a rough time dealing with Dean and the realization he might want to die. It weakens his control and he's already in pain to begin with, not that Dean has noticed. Hurt/angst!Sam angst/caring!Dean ONE SHOT


**Title:** Thrown in the Deep End

**Author**: Disasteriffic Kaz

**Info:** Tag to 7x13 "The Slice Girls" Sam has a rough time dealing with Dean and the realization he might want to die. It weakens his control and he's already in pain to begin with, not that Dean has noticed. Hurt/angst!Sam angst/caring!Dean Basically some brotherly fluff cause damn I need it.

**Author's note:** So, Slice Girls made me cry. Seriously, I got misty eyed at the end. It wrenched my heart, that scene in the car and I needed to add to it. I needed some brotherly love so I hope you all enjoy it or that it at least dries a few tears. Lol

**Do please Review once you've read. :D Every comment and vote of support helps keep me writing. Not to mention if I've pooched anything, someone can always tell me. :P**

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Sam stared out at the road, his foot going heavier on the gas without even realizing it. Ever so often he could feel Dean look over at him, like he wanted to tell him something but then he'd just turn back to the passenger window and remain silent. The silence was killing Sam. All he wanted, all he asked of his big brother was …don't get killed. Please. Please, leave, stop Hunting, do anything; Sam didn't care anymore just as long as Dean lived. He needed him to live like he needed air. He was Sam's sanity; his stone and his stone was sinking.

He didn't really know where they were going and supposed, at the moment, it didn't really matter. Sam snuck a look over at Dean and decided anywhere with a bed would do. He could use one himself. Being tossed down a flight of stairs, even a short one and into a door did not do good things for a body. He ached and wouldn't be surprised if he'd cracked a rib or at least had a damn good bruise going. He wasn't sitting ramrod straight behind the wheel just because of the tension. It was the only way he could get a good breath.

"He's tired of you, Sammy." Lucifer's voice came sing-song from the back seat. Sam tightened his grip on the wheel and refused to look in the rearview mirror.

"Sammy." Dean's voice this time and Sam flinched. "Dude find a motel."

"I'm going to. Soon as we hit the next town." Sam worked to keep his voice even, calm; to not betray that he was having another trip down crazy lane in the backseat.

Dean knew something was wrong, even in the depths of his self-loathing he knew it. The way Sam was sitting behind the wheel; the way Mr. Obsessive safe driver hadn't checked the rearview in ten minutes not to mention if they passed a cop they were gonna hear sirens. Dean pushed himself to pay attention. They did not need to end up on the authorities' radar again.

"Ease off the gas, Sam. You're gonna get us busted." Dean told him firmly. Sam nodded shortly and slowed to somewhere in the realm of the speed limit. Dean opened his mouth, wanting to say something else but found he didn't have any words. He'd been doing so well, he thought, smiling through the agony of breathing every day and then….Emma. Her face hung in his mind like a silent accusation. In every way big and small, he failed family; even his own…he couldn't think the word yet, let alone say it. It didn't matter that she'd only been alive for three days or that he'd only known for her a moment, she was his and he'd failed her too. He snapped himself out of it again when he felt the car speed up once more.

"Sam." Dean said and frowned when his brother still didn't turn his head to look at him, eyes completely focused out the windshield.

"Sorry." Sam said softly and slowed again. He wasn't trying to break speed records, not on purpose anyway but his subconscious was obviously in the mood to run away from the soft chuckles in the back seat. He ground his left palm against the rough surface of the steering wheel, trying to find control. Dean didn't want to live anymore.

"Turn there, Sam." Dean pointed to a sign signaling Larryville. It sounded like a hole in the wall but it would have somewhere to stop he was sure. "Sam, you paying attention?"

"Yeah. I see it." Sam nodded again and dutifully slowed before turning to follow the sign. He was beginning to think he needed to not be behind the wheel. The road wound and twisted and slowly the lights of Larryville took over the night. He made himself slow to the actual speed limit as they entered the outskirts of town and sighed when he immediately spotted a rundown motel. They'd probably have to shower just from sleeping in the place but it was unlikely to raise any flags to the Leviathans. Sam turned into the parking lot and pulled up to the rental office.

"Geez this place looks like it needs to be fumigated." Dean commented and opened his door. "I'll get us a room. You just…sit." Dean got out and went into the office with a short look back at Sam's pale face behind the wheel. Something was definitely off.

Sam closed his eyes and took his foot off the gas. He still wanted to push it even standing still. The low whistling of some cheery tune from the backseat was not helping. He flinched when Dean opened the door and got back in.

"Room 10." Dean said and pointed. Sam eased the car out, now paying special attention to his driving and managed to find the room and park without flooring the gas even once.

"You go on. I'll get the bags." Sam said and got out of the car faster than he wanted too. He watched Dean walk to the door, open it and go inside; all without a backward glance this time and opened the trunk. He hid behind it for a moment and just closed his eyes, taking deep breaths…or at least he tried but that spot on his back stabbed at him and he was left panting instead. "Dammit." Sam pulled their bags out of the trunk and shut it, finding it harder to reach up than he wanted. Dean had left the door open for him and he found the bathroom door closed when he came in. Sam dropped Dean's bag on his bed and went to the farther bed, letting his own thump onto the floor beside it. He lowered himself to sit on the edge of the bed and worked to get his jacket off.

"You know, she was Dean's daughter. That makes her your Niece." Lucifer said and Sam saw him from the corner of his eye, leaning back in a chair at the rickety table. "You killed your own Niece. Well done, Sammy."

Sam squinted his eyes shut and dropped his head into his hands. He'd already reached that conclusion himself and it was driving one more stab of guilt into him.

"He doesn't want to be around you anymore. You ganked his daughter, Sam." Lucifer wagged a finger at him. "Monster or not, guy like Dean, you know he won't forget something like that."

"Shut up." Sam whispered.

"You say something?" Dean's voice made Sam look up in surprise as his brother emerged from the bathroom.

He shook his head. "Uh, no. No."

Dean scowled at him. "You were talkin' to someone Sammy." He said and then sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Forget it."

Dean wanted to die. That one thought Sam could not keep from running around his fractured brain. He'd fought so hard to make Sam hang on, stay sane and live and here he was…giving up. He bent to lie down and hissed in a breath as his back pulled.

"Alright, dammit. What the hells' wrong?" Dean demanded and stalked over to his little brother whose face had now broken out in a sweat. "And don't tell me you're fine."

"I'm…fine." Sam said and gave him a blank face. "Just sore."

"From what?" Dean wasn't aware of Sam taking any hits recently.

"Amazon at the University." Sam tried straightening to relieve the pressure in his back which didn't work so he tried bending over but that just made it worse. "Tossed me…tossed me down some stairs…into a door. It's nothing."

"Shit." Dean groaned, suddenly feeling like crap for not bothering to ask if Sam had been hurt. "Back or front?"

"Back." Sam replied and shook his head. "I'm good."

Dean growled under his breath. "No. You're in pain and you're trippin' Lucifer again. I can see it." He sat next to Sam and took the back of his shirt, lifting it carefully and batted Sam's hand away when he tried to stop him. "Shut up, Sammy." There was a massive bruise on the right side of his back over his kidney. No wonder he looked like he had a stick up his… "That's gotta hurt." Dean commented and let the shirts drop. He went to the bag on his bed, pulling out the first aid kit and dug through it for the pain killers.

"I don't need anything." Sam said and had another go at lying down with the same effect. He couldn't bend at all without the pain in his back stopping his breath.

"Pretty sure I told you to shut up." Dean said firmly. He went to the bathroom for a glass of water and came back, handing the water and a couple painkillers to Sam. "How about we skip the part where I tell you to take em, you argue and end up doing it anyway? Just take them, Sam. Be stubborn some other time." Sam was in pain and needed Dean. Some small part of him that Dean didn't want to think too hard about was actually happy about it. Not that he actually wanted Sam hurting but right now Sam needed him and…Dean needed to be needed just then.

Sam opened his mouth to do exactly what Dean had said, argue and then looked beyond him to see Lucifer smirking. He changed his mind and took the pills, swallowing them down with the water and handed the glass back. He looked up in surprise when Dean's arm came around his shoulders.

"Just let me help you get down, Sam." Dean told him. "You're lucky if nothing's broken back there." He pushed gently at Sam's chest and took all his weight, laying him down without making him bend. Sam huffed out a breath in relief, eyes closing when he was horizontal.

"Thanks." Sam said softly and this once, let his brother take care of him again. Dean pulled off his shoes, tugged the blanket out from under him and covered him. Sam felt his brother's hand brush across his brow, moving his hair before slipping away; checking for fever like he'd done ever since Sam could remember.

"Try not to move too much." Dean told him gruffly and turned away, pulling the salt from his bag and went to lay the salt lines.

"I'm sorry." Sam said into the quiet and heard Dean suck in a breath. "For so much, Dean."

"I know, Sammy." Dean had his back to Sam, not wanting to see the liquid expression in his eyes. "Me too." He was, sorry for everything since the moment he'd first gone to Stanford and pulled Sam back into the life. Of course, it wouldn't have mattered. He knew that. The visions would still have started, Yellow Eyes would still have pulled him to Cold Oak and Sam's life would still have been destroyed but…he never would have been dropped in the cage, Dad wouldn't have died like he did, Dean wouldn't have gone to hell and jump started the apocalypse. He rested his forehead against the door for a moment. So many what ifs and it didn't matter which way he looked at it, things still would have been shit.

"Dean, stop." Sam said. He knew his brother too well and knew exactly what was running through his head just then as he stood leaning against the door.

"Leave it, Sammy." Dean turned back to see just the look he didn't want to see and sighed. "Leave it, ok? Just…just for now."

Sam nodded and closed his eyes again. He felt the bed beside him depress and flinched.

"Just me, Sammy." Dean said softly, seeing the slight jerk and dropped a hand onto Sam's shoulder. He felt the muscles relax slightly and nodded. He was right. Lucifer was out of the box again and had been for a while. "Just go to sleep. I'll be right here." This he could do for his little brother. He could chase away the bastard that haunted him at least for a little while.

Sam felt exhaustion start to claim him. He was warm, the painkillers were beginning to work and Dean was at his side. Lucifer's voice stilled; the whistling stopped and went away on Dean's voice. The hand on his shoulder tightened and Sam let himself sleep.

Dean watched his brother slowly give in and minutes later his breathing slowed, head tilting away in sleep. He sighed, studying the face he'd watched grow from birth. In some screwed up way Emma had been the product of his genes but the man under his hand…this was the kid he'd raised. He'd started to forget that lately, figured he would again given the amount of crap rolling downhill at them lately. He kept his hand on Sam's shoulder and stayed where he was. For the moment, he tucked away all the darkness in his head and did what he was supposed to do; he took care of Sammy. That was his job after all, the only thing he had left really.

He reached over and clicked off the light next to the bed, leaving the dim light from the bathroom to filter through the dingy motel room. In the semi-darkness, he held his brother's demons at bay and he smiled…or tried to.

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_The end._


End file.
